


He's 42, and he's loved

by hazel_eyed_bi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Fluff, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Human Jack Kline, M/M, Multi, What more can I say, and he's in love, and his family loves him a lot, dean finally goes to the beach, happy birthday dean, no beta we die like all the women and poc in spn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28972386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazel_eyed_bi/pseuds/hazel_eyed_bi
Summary: Cas's hands traveled from Dean's hair down the nape of his neck and onto his shoulders. "It's early," he mumbled into Dean's lips. Dean shifted to check the clock, 5:32 am, and caught sight of the duffle bags next to their nightstand."Big day," he breathed out, propped up on his hands.Cas donned a half-smile and a twinkle in his eye. "That it is."
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak
Comments: 15
Kudos: 64





	He's 42, and he's loved

**Author's Note:**

> Five minutes to midnight but I did it, here's the Happy Birthday Dean fic.

After so many years of living in the bunker, Dean was no longer wired to sleep only four hours a night out of necessity. He was also not a morning person, never had been, so most days he allowed himself the luxury of sleeping in.

Today, however, something deep in his belly—anticipation, excitement—pulled him out of unconsciousness against his will. Eyes still closed and mind still jumbled, he couldn't imagine what it could be about, until the steady thumping underneath him was replaced by a hum and a voice so deep it never failed to send a shiver down his spine.

"Good morning."

Green eyes met loving blue, and Dean didn't bother fighting a smile or the urge. Not today. He reached up to run a finger along Cas's jaw, under his lips, down his neck. He kissed him, a hand cupping Cas's face as he used the other to push himself on top of him. He kissed Cas, whose fingers entangled themselves in Dean's hair, longer than he'd ever let it grow before. He kissed Cas, and by now it was both as natural as breathing and as striking as a blue moon. 

Cas's hands traveled from Dean's hair down the nape of his neck and onto his shoulders. "It's early," he mumbled into Dean's lips. Dean shifted to check the clock, 5:32 am, and caught sight of the duffle bags next to their nightstand.

"Big day," he breathed out, propped up on his hands.

Cas donned a half-smile and a twinkle in his eye. "That it is," he said, and flipped them over. Once settled on top, Cas started trailing feather-light kisses along Dean’s jaw and down his neck, stopping to pay special attention to that one spot just under his ear that Cas knew drove him insane. His hands found their way under Dean’s t-shirt, caressing at his hipbones and traveling up his belly, not as solid as it once was. Dean could feel the love, the reverence, in every touch and kiss that Cas, _his_ Cas, laid upon him. It left Dean a total mess. 

Cas slowly found his way back to Dean’s lips, brushing over them with his tongue and seizing the opportunity Dean’s small gasp gave him. He swept over every crevice and corner of Dean’s mouth, once, a fleeting thing, before pulling away. It generated a whimper from the back of Dean’s throat that Cas had the audacity to smirk at.

“I love you,” he said, low and hoarse like a prayer, as he rested his forehead on top of Dean’s, breaths mingling together and eyelashes brushing against each other. “Happy birthday, Dean.”

42\. Wow.

“So far?” Dean brought his hands up to grab Cas’s face like he was his lifeboat. “The best.”

Cas kissed him one more time, short and chaste, before dragging them both out of bed to get dressed. They found the others already waiting in the war room with their own bags. Sam and Eileen were still blinking sleep out of their eyes, but Jack had the energy of a golden retriever puppy and was the first out the door.

They stopped for breakfast at the 24-hour diner in town. They were the only lunatics there at 6 in the morning on a Sunday, and Dean made sure to tip that poor waitress well since she had to tolerate their growing rowdiness and excited chatter as they ate and gained their strength. Dean had to admit though, the energy that other townspeople were walking into was fantastic, especially after Cas went and chose some song by The Temptations at the jukebox (yes, there was a goddamn jukebox), prompting Dean to take him dancing around the place as best they could.

By the time they got back to the car, everyone was in great spirits, any and all morning grouchiness long vanished. They joked around and jammed the whole way, two hours passing by in seemingly nothing.

Warm sand and whispering sweetwater welcomed Dean like they were created for him. Maybe they were. Maybe Cas made this particular lake. Dean looked ahead at him and Eileen, signing away at each other in between setting up the towels and chairs. So normal, so lively, so overwhelmingly human. The thought of Castiel, a creature of power beyond all mortal comprehension, molding mountains, and valleys, and lakes; it all seemed so foreign to Dean now. He was just Cas, standing there in a t-shirt and swim trunks, feet sinking into the sand, golden-rooted overgrown hair shifting in the wind. And it was all because of him. Cas was there, and Cas was human, for _him_. It was something that hit Dean in waves sometimes, knocking the wind out of him and reminding him how absurdly lucky he was.

There was a chilly breeze in the air, the water was freezing, and they had the whole beach to themselves (because, again, _lunatics_ ). None of them ever waded too far into the water (pneumonia was still a very real thing), but none of them escaped un-splashed either. 

Dean watched whatever game was being played without him as he came back from the bathroom at one point, Jack sitting on Sam’s shoulders and trying to avoid the water Cas tossed at them. Eileen was sitting on one of their chairs, reapplying sunscreen, and Dean alerted her of his presence with a hand on her shoulder before sitting on the chair next to her.

“So,” she started after a while, handing Dean a water bottle and opening her own. “Forty-two. How does it feel?”

Dean thought about it. He was alive. He was topside. He was at a goddamn beach, watching his kid fall off his brother’s shoulders as his… whatever Cas was, cackled in pure delight. 

“Like a goddamn miracle,” he finally answered, and Eileen nodded. They tapped their bottles together, drank, and it wasn’t long before they were being dragged over to the water by their soaking wet significant others.

Not long before noon, they'd changed into everyday clothes and were walking back to the car, exhausted and starving. Their lunch stop had been picked out days beforehand, a steakhouse in Ellsworth where Dean made sure to mention it was his birthday before paying.

“Why do you need a discount?” Jack asked, once the waiter was out of earshot. “Aren’t our credit cards unlimited?”

“They are,” Dean replied. “We’ve got our Charlie to thank for that.”

Not that they still had her, of course. But Dean liked to thank her anyways.

“I wish I could’ve met her.”

Dean tossed an arm around Jack’s shoulders, ruffling the back of his head in the process. “So do I, kid.”

Dean decided Cas was riding shotgun on the way back to the bunker. Sam, exhausted from having lugged around both Jack and Eileen on his shoulders for a better part of the morning, had no complaints. He fell asleep not long after taking off, Eileen and Jack next to him following suit. 

Dean turned down the pop station playing on the radio and rolled down the windows as he merged into the highway, letting the soft music and the wind rushing past his ears meld into a single background track. That track was sometimes interrupted, _enhanced_ , by Cas humming along to whatever song was playing. Dean didn't recognize a single one, another reminder of how heartwarmingly human Cas was, developing his own taste in music and sharing it with him just as Dean had done for years.

The first time he hummed along, Dean reached over and laid his arm on the back of the seat, running his fingers through the strands at the nape of Cas's neck for a while. The second time, he placed his upturned hand on the seat and didn't have to wait long before Cas's hand snaked its way into it. The third time, Dean couldn't take the whole reaching over thing anymore, and tugged Cas's arm so he'd scoot closer. He planted his hand on Cas's thigh, and Cas rested his own hand on top of it. They stayed like that the whole ride back, only interrupted by Dean bringing Cas's hand up to his lips, or the other way around.

They only stopped for gas about twenty minutes out of Lebanon. They had enough to get home, but Dean hadn't let Baby's tank run empty since he was 25, and damn him, he wasn't going to start at 42.

They had nothing else planned, but Dean had full immunity and control over the day, and as he pulled into the gas station, he decided: movie night. He gave Cas a quick peck before heading inside and picking up some popcorn, M&M's, and licorice. He glanced outside, saw Sam had woken up and was on the phone, and grabbed even more licorice. He couldn't bitch about it today.

Sam hung up as soon as he caught sight of Dean walking back to the car.

"Who was that?" Dean asked.

"Oh. Uhhh… Jody."

"Oh, uh, Jody?"

"Yeah," Sam stammered. "She says happy birthday."

"Huh. Thought maybe she'd call me herself." 

"She's busy, I guess," Sam said, quirking his head like he couldn't help but do when he lied.

"Right."

Dean slumped against the car as he filled the tank, and as Sam climbed back in, Cas climbed out, settling next to him.

"Is Sam lying to me, Cas?" He asked, studying the car wash sign far ahead.

"No, Dean," he heard Cas reply. "That _was_ Jody he was talking to."

"But he _is_ hiding something."

"Dean," Cas beckoned, and Dean turned to meet his eyes. "Trust him," he said, lacing their fingers together. "We wouldn't be divising anything malicious on your birthday." 

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "We?"

Cas simply smiled and said “I love you,” kissing the back of his hand and then returning to the car.

In contrast to how fast two hours went by that morning, those 20 remaining minutes back to the bunker felt eternal. Sam kept texting on his phone, occasionally showing Eileen something on the screen, to which she'd smile and nudge him excitedly. It was driving Dean up the wall the more he watched them through the rearview mirror, and he was about to say something when Cas placed a hand on his knee and squeezed. _Patience_ , his eyes said. Also _I love you._ Always, constantly, _I love you_. It calmed Dean down. At least, enough to reach the bunker without peeking at the backseat again.

Dean stepped through the threshold, formulating the movie list for tonight in his head, when-

"SURPRISE!" 

Dean almost startled out of his skin. Streamers, balloons, confetti of every color imaginable, and a war table decked out in snacks awaited him below, along with a sea of faces of some of the best people he knew. Sam stood next to him and patted his back, wearing a proud grin on his stupid face. Dean turned back to find matching smiles on Cas, Eileen, and Jack, so taken aback that he wouldn't have started down the stairs had Jack not pulled him excitedly along.

Claire tackled him in a hug the second he came down the last step. "Now you're old," she said in his ear. 

Dean didn't argue, just mumbled a quiet "yeah, yeah" as he squeezed her, planting a kiss on her hair before she pulled away.

Jody and Donna followed, then the other girls, congratulations and "happy birthday"s left and right. Garth awaited his turn, and Dean made sure to initiate the hug with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. 

Over Garth's shoulder he spotted some faces. They were vaguely familiar, but one in particular was prominent in his memory, one he hadn't seen in far too long and now looked much older than at their last encounter.

"Krissy?"

She smiled that cocky, crooked grin of hers. "Happy birthday, dweeb."

"Krissy Chambers, what d'ya know." He engulfed her in a hug, smiling at Aidan and Josephine behind her. "And you're all still together."

"Duh," Krissy scoffed, pulling away. "We're family."

Dean nodded, looking around as Sam, Cas, Eileen, and Jack said hi to everyone. A damn family alright.

And so the evening began. Everyone caught each other up, told some stories. Claire and Kaia were officially together, Krissy and Aidan were very much not. Baby Sam and Castiel were growing up great, and Garth was ecstatic to finally meet his son’s namesake. Donna brought freaking karaoke machine, so in between stuffing their faces with snacks (yes, licorice included, much to Sam’s disgust), everyone would take turns at the mic. Among the highlights: Alex, Patience, and Claire’s _Since U Been Gone_ , Dean, Jody, and Donna’s _Bennie and the Jets_ , Cas and Jack’s _Don’t Stop Believing_ , and of course, a valiant collective effort for _Sweet Caroline_.

Dean spent the night answering the "how does 42 feel" question. Made sure to give a different answer every time. "Like thirty." "Like sixty." "Like hell, and I would know." "Like heaven. Actually no, not that bad." Eileen smiled at him every time, because she knew. Like a miracle.

Dean was almost ( _almost_ ) tired by the time the pie came around and the incredibly out of tune Happy Birthday chorus began. He was wearing two party hats at that point. Jack placed the pie in front of him, ‘HaPPy B-daY D!’ written in crust on top and Rice Krispy treats framing the plate. Dean sent Jack a knowing smile before reaching over to ruffle his hair in thanks. 

“Make a wish,” Sam said beside him. Dean regarded him for a moment, then Cas at his other side, then Jack and Eileen and Claire and Jody and everyone around the table, all with a soft smile. He blew out the candles.

* * *

“I would really like to ask you what you wished for, you know?” Cas said later that night, as he sat down next to Dean in their little library nook, everyone else long asleep. “But they say it’s supposedly bad luck to say it out loud. That it won’t come true.”

Dean pressed play on his phone and stood up. “Doesn’t matter,” he said, holding his hand out for Cas to take. Some Harry James piece filled the air as Dean pulled him close, studying every shade of blue in his eyes, every wrinkle that surrounded them, the outline of his lips and the shape of his jaw. He turned for a second to look at the party mess everyone promised to help clean up in the morning, then turned back to Cas. He met his lips, soft and deliberately slow, trying to speak volumes without saying a single word. _It’s this. It’s you. It’s us. It’s love and family and peace. That’s my wish. That has always been and always will be my wish._

He pulled away and said, “It already came true.”

Cas happily nuzzled his face into the crook of Dean’s neck as they started swaying back and forth. They lost themselves in the music and each other, hands caressing and lips leaving soft kisses wherever they wanted. After who knows how many songs, neither of them could say, Cas mumbled into Dean’s shoulder.

“I love you.”

At long, long last, Dean finally replied.

“I love you too, Cas.”

Cas’s head shot up, and Dean caught only a brief sight of his eyes turning glassy before Cas pressed their lips together again, wanting and caring and so, so incredibly loving. It was as Cas pulled away that it dawned on Dean: he’d never, in his life, felt as happy, as satisfied, as _lo_ _ved_ as he did on this day.

“Happy birthday, Dean.”

And it was. It definitely was.


End file.
